


"The Case of the Cunning Linguist"

by amalcolm



Category: Nancy Drew - Keene
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-18
Updated: 2009-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-04 13:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amalcolm/pseuds/amalcolm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh, the things Nancy Drew is clueless about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"The Case of the Cunning Linguist"

"The Case of the Cunning Linguist"

Nancy Drew stepped out of her attractive house early one summer morning. It had rained hard the previous night, but she was delighted to see the sun shining brightly now. Things like that usually went her way.

Flipping her perfect titian colored hair over her shoulder, she waved at the pair of girls coming up the driveway hand-in-hand. One, slightly plump, but still attractive and worthy enough to be a good chum to Miss Drew, was Bess Marvin. She bit happily into a large bologna sandwich. The other, with short dark hair, wore her field hockey sweater, the River Heights Lady Beavers and carried a saddle swung over her shoulder. She was Bess's cousin, George Fayne. Both girls waved back.

Nancy was just unlocking the door to her newest car, another blue roadster. Every year or so her father Carson Drew, the country's most recognized lawyer since Johnnie Cochran, bought her a new one. She never asked for new cars, of course. That would have been most improper and unladylike. In fact, the way the machines appeared in her driveway like clockwork was almost magical. As soon as she solved a case that involved the destruction (or near destruction) of her beloved blue roadster, one was always there by the time another exciting mystery loomed down upon her.

"Hi, girls," Nancy said, swinging an attractive pink over-night case into the back seat. "Are we all ready to go?"

"Sure are! Gee, it was nice of you to invite us with you, Nancy! Imagine, a whole week at Bushlick Lodge!" George grinned and squeezed her cousin's hand a little tighter.

Bess shoved the last remaining bite of sandwich into her mouth and sighed. "I suppose a little road trip is a good reason for me to give up my latest diet, too."

Nancy laughed. "I was surprised to be asked to come. I had never heard of Bushlick Lodge until I received a phone call from them, saying they had heard I was a cunning linguist and they would like for me to come for a week as their featured guest. I am not sure I understand why they think I am a cunning linguist, but perhaps I am to give a speech. But I was promised we would have a gay old time. A bit queer, isn't it girls?"

George snorted, but Bess elbowed her in the ribs. "Well, it is a bit queer, Nancy. But who doesn't appreciate a gay old time?"

"That's true. And perhaps, girls, we shall even come across a mystery! They have a way of appearing every time we head off for some remote location. And some of these activities sound as if they are full of mystery and intrigue! There's to be eating, riding, harness-making, muff-diving…I'm not entirely sure what that it, but I am fond of water sports."

"And I am fond of eating!" Bess interjected.

"And I, riding." George dropped her large saddle onto the driveway.

"I thought you didn't care much for horses, George," said Nancy. She was busy loading the six or seven picnic baskets of fine cuisine Hannah Gruen had prepared for the trip.

"Horses? Who said anything about hor...oh, I mean. Yes. I like, um, horses." Her gaze shifted firmly to her cousin's full bottom, but Nancy was too preoccupied loading the roadster to notice.   
*

Ten or so minutes later, the trio was packed into the shiny auto and heading down the highway out of River Heights. There was a bit of traffic as it was a week-end, but Nancy skillfully maneuvered the roadster out toward the country. Indeed, as she was quite a celebrity in her home town, many drivers recognized the attractive titian-haired detective and looked on the striking party with the kind of admiration one would not expect for a mere girl driving a car.

"Girls, are your special boy chums planning to join us at the lodge later? I especially asked Ned to do so and of course he instantly promised he would."

"What was that, Nance?" Bess asked. She was digging through one of the luncheon baskets for some watercress, abalone and truffle tea sandwiches. George rested her head against the window, visions of sugar tits dancing in her head.

"Are Burt and Dave coming down, I asked."

"Burt and…oh! Durt and Bave…I mean, Burt and Dave. George, dear, are Burt Eddleton and Dave Evans coming to join us?"

"Why, I do believe they are vacationing on Fire Island."

"Oh, well. That is a shame. I am sure Ned will miss them. And you girls as well."

Nancy drove on, manfully handling her vehicle as well as any boy her age. Although the Lodge was some distance, she never was lost. Her sense of direction and logic was better than anyones. She hummed a charming little ditty perfectly on pitch, not noticing that George had begun nibbling Bess's ear in the backseat.   
*  
The lodge was a charming building set on thirty or so acres of woodland. There was no water in sight to the naked eye, so Nancy immediately wondered where the muff diving would take place. But she soon forgot about this when the director, a bosomy man with a crew cut and Birkenstocks came jugging down to meet them.

"Hi, ladies. I'm Dr. Beddeath. You can call me Les, though." He had a curiously deep voice for such a short, hairless man. "Welcome to Bushlick Lodge! We are so lucky to have such pretty femmies as you here."

Nancy immediately stuck her hand out and smiled charmingly. "And I thank you, Les, for the invitation. I have been planning for days what subject I shall give my speech on."

Les did not respond, however, because the director was busy admiring George's saddle. "Oh, my lanta, lady, you are going to have to let me borrow that piece of leather-tastic beauty. My Suzy is going to grunt like a pig when she sees it!"

"Why, that is exactly what Bess does!"

Nancy was helping her chums wrangle the luggage. She was uncertain as to what George meant by that, but she thought little of it. After all, Bess grunted frequently. Particularly when Hannah Gruen made oyster pies or vanity cakes.  
*  
The three River Heights chums were shown to their rooms. Nancy thought hers a bit unorthodox, as the bed cover was of a lumberjack-like red plaid. But she was sure it was comfortable and warm.

Bess and George's rooms were to both her left and right, but the only noise Nancy heard was from George's. Both girls had expressed to their chum that they were exhausted and intended to nap, so she was left to rest herself and practice her speech in her head.

Laying her head down on the soft plaid pillow, she could clearly hear someone shouting 'yee-haw' and 'ride 'em, cowgirl,' as well as a lot of war whoops and horse noises. Nancy drifted off into a comfortable rest thinking George must be watching a western on television…I do wish she would turn the volume down a bit. She thought to tap on the wall and say so, but she was asleep before she could.  
*

Nancy awoke to a car horn honking softly above her bed. An efficient investigation revealed the noise to be coming from a wall-clock shaped like an orange and white moving van. U-haul was written on the body of the vehicle. And the horn appeared to be the clock's chime. It was now six p.m. and time for supper.

"Another curious bit a whimsy," Nancy said, smiling to herself. She began to unpack her various fashionable sweater-sets and to put them into the dresser. But before she could get very far, George and Bess were knocking at her door, bidding her to come with them to eat.

"We don't want to keep everyone waiting, Nancy," said Bess. Her face was flushed and she looked not at all rested, but Nancy assumed this was due to her anticipation of the promised pig-roast to occur that night.

"Do you think perhaps I should give my speech after we eat?" Nancy wondered aloud. She was changing into a stunning, yet simple gown with a kiekie beret.

George and Bess could not know, of course, so the trio of chums went off to the dining room together. They all looked a very attractive picture, but Nancy was clearly the most vivacious. She strolled confidently into the room amidst many delicious smells coming from the kitchen. Many of the lodge's guests were already mingling about, and the River Heights girls immediately dispersed to politely mix-in.

Nancy was soon engaged in conversation with another young man in Birkenstock sandles and a crew-cut, as well as his guest, a giggly woman with long blonde hair.

"What a very charming place this is," our heroine was saying. "The atmosphere is so serene."

"I think it's all kinda boring so far," the young man replied. "I wish they would just get on with it. I mean, that's why we're all here, right?" He took a sip of his organic kelp juice.

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh, you know, hon. The cunnilingius expert. She's supposed to be giving tutorials all week. And she's a celebrity. I can't wait to see who it is."

His date giggled. "It's probably Ellen."

"Oh, come on. No way, Shree. I'm thinking Oprah and Gale."

Another giggle. "Maybe Lindsay Lohan?"

"Can't be. She's still in the pokey."

A spark of realization went off in Nancy's attractive head. "Why! The cunning linguist! That is me. That is specifically why I was invited to Bushlick lodge! But I am not really much of a celebrity. I am planning to give a speech about the treasures one may find in old clocks."

Shree looked confused. " 'Old clocks'? Is that, like, a tranny, or something?"

"I'm sorry?"

Before she could answer, Les Beddeath, the director, was ascending a small platform and motioning everyone to gather around. "Hello ladies!" He spoke into a tiny microphone. "Welcome back to Bushlick Lodge!"

How rude that he didn't welcome the gentlemen as well, thought Nancy Drew.

"For all you experts back to have a gay old time, welcome! And for all you amateurs, or just you bi-curious, I think by the time the week is up, you are going to have the motto: I took a licking and kept on ticking!"

Laughter. Dr. Beddeath motioned in Nancy's direction now. "And we do have a real treat for you this week. A celebrity! That famous girl-detective, the River Heights hottie, Miss Nancy Drew herself."

Nancy smiled and waved. Many of the gentleman wolf-whistled at her. But she was used to this sort of attention and so no response was necessary.

Les continued. "Miss Drew is not only a world-famous detective. And a smokin' hot piece of lady meat, but, according to her two, yes, two girlfriends, she is a cunnilinguis expert. So let's all hope that maybe we can learn a thing or two from her this week."

There was applause now and Nancy felt that it would be appropriate for her to stand next to the director. As she did, she asked politely if she ought to give her speech now. It was rather sudden, and perhaps everyone would care to eat first, but she would if…

Les laughed. "Don't worry. They'll all be eating soon enough. Why don't you just get us all started and we'll go from there?"

Nancy smiled primly. She had made a few note cards for her speech, but she felt it would sound more genuine if she didn't rely on them. Turning to face the crowd, she saw that many of them were now either sitting of lying down. Good, she thought. I want them to be as comfortable as possible.

"I want to begin this evening in telling you a bit about how I gained my reputation…"  
*


End file.
